The Adult Story Hub

This work is copyrighted to the author © 1997. Please don't remove the author information or make any changes to this story. You may post freely to non-commercial "free" sites, or in the "free" area of commercial sites. Thank you for your consideration.
By Bonnie (Address withheld)

What a night Last night! Ouch! My whole body aches, but it's the kind of ache I crave. No work today, that's for sure. I can just imagine the shocked looks on the faces of the girls in the office if they knew how I get my sexual pleasure. The reserved, prim and proper public relations specialist, whom everyone thinks is so delicate and sweet.
I'm only 25-years old, I think I'm beautiful, with long blonde hair, and a firm petite body and a high paying job. That's why I can envision those old cows in the office puking up their lunches if they knew that my cunt floods like a burst dam whenever I have a fist shoved up my asshole. That's right, I make no bones about what I am -- The Fist Fuck Queen of the Big Apple. The closer to the core of my bowels, the riper I become!
I can remember when I lost my anal cherry to a fist so vividly that it seems as if it happened moments ago, though in actuality, it's been almost a year. I started going out with Brad, and I knew from the moment we laid eyes on one another that the only thing on his mind was fucking me. He thought he was hot shit, a big stud. The arrogant bastard even started boasting about putting his "whopper between my buns." So one night, I gave in to the inevitable. In all honesty, I've never been one to turn down a cock, especially a big one!
Brad had a big one, all right, about nine inches. When I first saw his prick, proud and erect, I remember having the overwhelming desire to devour it. I think even he was surprised at the way I deep-throated his meat. As the head of his cock intruded deep into my larynx, and gurgling gasps of pleasure escaped from my mouth, Brad started playing with my cunt, ramming his fingers in and out. But he shot his load down my throat before I had the chance to let his fingers lead me to my own orgasm.
Since his prick wasn't able to return to active duty yet, I guided his hand to my pussy and motioned for him to put his fingers back to work. At first, Brad inserted two fingers into my open box. It felt so good that I moaned for him to put another one in. He was starting to enjoy himself, also. He worked three fingers into my cunt, rhythmically twisting them in and out.
I was soon bathed in my own joy juice. And then, before I knew it, Brad had shoved all five fingers inside of my wet hole. At first, I was scared that he was going to rip my cunt open, but as his wrist disappeared into my vagina, an uncontrollable surge of exultation began welling up in the pit of my stomach, spreading in great waves down to the pulse of my womanhood. Brad's fist plowed into my pussy, and I began to shake in the throes of a giant orgasm.
After he slid his hand out, literally soaking wet, I needed a few minutes to recover. But as my orgasm subsided, my desire to be filled up increased. It was as if my eyes had just been opened to a whole new world. I knew then and there that a cock, even Brad's large one, would never again be able to fully satisfy me. I wanted something bigger, longer, harder, and more exciting. I wanted a fist!
I had read about how popular anal fist fucking had become, and I was always curious about it. I always like to try new things, especially in sexual matters. So I told Brad that I wanted him to fist fuck me up my asshole. He stared at me in disbelief, stammering. He was scared. He made excuses: he would rip my asshole open and cause me internal damage; he would get shit all over his arm; the idea was "weird and for fags." But I told him that if he didn't do what I wanted, that would be the end of out relationship, the end of our deep throat sessions. That did the trick.
I knew from my reading that certain steps had to be taken if fisting was to be enjoyed. I also knew that the preparation would only serve to add to my excitement and enjoyment. Step one was to clean out my bowels with an enema. I kept an enema bag in the house for medical purposes, but was never really into using it for sex. But when Brad inserted the nozzle into my puckered hole, a shiver of excitement raced through my body.
As the water made its journey into my intestines, my heart started beating faster, knowing that the passageway was being cleared for Brad's fist. And when I shit out the enema I felt relief, not because the pressure was released from my bowels, but because I knew it wouldn't be long before I felt Brad's fist corkscrewing its way deep into my chocolate channel.
But there was still another step to take. Opening a large jar of Vaseline, I told Brad to scoop up a few globs and massage it thoroughly on his hand and up his arm. When the length of his arm and hand glistened from the petroleum jelly, I felt confident that the time was at hand, if you'll pardon the expression.
I got down on all fours, propped up by a pillow, and spread my ass cheeks as wide apart as possible. Then Brad plunged one of his Vaseline coated fingers into my asshole, which was pleading to be plundered. When he put his second finger in, I could feel my sphincter begin to relax, lubricated by the jelly and my own juices.
When his third finger plunged into the inner sanctum of my rectum, my clit actually started to tremble. Easing his fourth digit in, Brad began swirling his fingers deeper into my dirt tunnel. I didn't feel any pain, I just felt intense ecstasy. It was as if the sensitive nerve endings of my anus were singing out in joy! When Brad finally squeezed his thumb into my asshole, and all five fingers danced around inside my most intimate of orifices, a great emotion seized my entire body.
As if possessed, I yelled, "More! Shove your fist all the way in!" Brad, caught up in the moment, did just that. I could feel my anus opening to accommodate his entire fist. My bowels sucked up Brad's hand like a giant vacuum! He pushed his arm in and out of my shit passage.
Brad, too, had become excited; his breathing was heavy and labored. As for me, I was past the point of no return. My orgasm started somewhere in my intestines, gathering momentum until my clit vibrated and my pussy felt as if it was going to burst! I came, and came, and passed out!
After that night, every time I saw Brad I demanded that he fist-fuck me. Yet he seemed to be growing more and more tentative. I think that he thought he was turning gay or something, the intensity just wasn't there. And I was damned if I was going to give up what had become my greatest joy, fisting. I liked Brad's big dick when he fucked me the regular way, but I was determined to have what I really wanted.
That's when I met Tim. A mutual friend introduced us. We had dinner, hit it off right away, and went back to my place. He wasn't classically handsome, but he had vivid blue eyes, which seemed to burn a hole through my body into my soul. The sexual chemistry between us was magical.
I told him how badly I wanted to please him, and how badly I wanted him to please me. But I also told him I was "different" sexually, that I craved the "unusual." He responded that he'd been involved in every possible sex scene, and the kinkier the better! That's when I knew that I had found the ideal lover. And that's also when I told him that I was a devotee of fisting.
Tim wasted little time getting down to business. First, he licked my clit and tongued my pussy. Then, when I was good and excited and on the brink of coming, he turned me over. I didn't quite know what to expect next. I felt Tim's smooth tongue sliding along the crack of my asshole.
He then descended straight down to my bunghole. His tongue flickered around the opening. The prodding of his tongue against my tight rosebud felt so very good. He was lapping away, almost as if there was buried treasure deep within my asshole. Then Tim's tongue struck gold, brown gold, as it burrowed right into my asshole. He pushed his tongue as deep inside as possible, and it didn't take much of his ass lapping to make me come.
Tim asked me where I kept the Vaseline. I told him, and he went and got it. When he returned, he spread my ass cheeks apart, stretching them to their limit, then liberally began spreading the grease around my anus. His fingers darted in and out of my asshole, basting my insides with the lubricant. What a great feeling!
Asking me if I was ready, Tim quickly inserted his middle finger into my asshole. Then, without warning, he rapidly jammed his four other fingers inside, in one fluid motion. I was breathless. He wasn't anything like Brad, unsure of himself. Tim knew what he was doing, and how to do it!
In the next instant, Tim's whole fist was pushing its way into my Hershey highway. I was soon overcome by the sheer speed and firm strength of his motion. When his fist was buried in my asshole up to his wrist, I surely thought he world stop, Brad always had, but Tim's fist continued to pile drive its way deeper into my anus. I could feel his arm inching its way into my stomach. I was stunned, but my screams were those of pleasure, not pain. It soon felt as if his arm was punching out my intestines, his fingers wiggling deep inside, where no man had ever gone before. His arm was buried to the elbow.
Becoming like a wild animal in heat, I bucked and thrashed about the bed, frantically rubbing my clit as if my hands had a life of their own. Needless to say, when I came I saw stars! it took me a couple of hours to come down from that sexual high!
From that incredible night on, Tim and I have been inseparable. No, we don't always use fisting as part of out lovemaking; some nights the missionary position is enough to provide terrific orgasms. But whenever Tim does fist fuck me, you better believe that it's special. We've also come up with countless variations of fisting.
I won't soon forget the night Tim first rammed an 18- inch dildo up my ass, then his own cock, then his fist, in rapid succession. That was wild. And I still cream when I think about the time that Tim simultaneously fucked me in the cunt with his cock and in the ass with his fist. He pounded away in unison, pumping both his prick and hand in and out of my respective holes.
We both came like gangbusters! And I'm still trying to take both fists up my asshole. So far the most I've managed to accomplish has been one hand and one finger of his other hand. But I'm sure that if we keep on trying, I'll be able to accomplish the feat one day; practice makes perfect!
But last night was one of my most satisfying yet. Tim and I had an intimate, romantic dinner, candlelight and the whole works. We were both incredibly horny and we almost ripped each other's clothes off. After some heated foreplay, which included a most satisfying 69 session, we were ready for the main event.
Tim gave me an enema, greased up, and was soon ready to fist his way into my heart, not to mention bowels! Yet there was something different about him: he was more animated than ever. He seemed to take almost maniacal pleasure in thrusting his fist in and out of my asshole.
When he sensed my orgasm was at hand he uttered, "Darling, I want this night to be special. I know how badly you've wanted to take both hands up your ass, but since we're not at that point yet, let's do the next best thing." I didn't know what he meant, but I was soon to find out.
Continuing his frantic fist fucking into the deep recess of my bowels, Tim suddenly plunged his other hand into my cunt! Like a piston, he worked both hands in and out at the same time, one massaging my rectum, the other forcing my pussy to open wider than seemed possible, plunging his fist deep into my snatch, my cunt felt like a whale swallowing up a passing ship.
It was truly the most exquisite feeling that I'd ever experienced. When I came, I almost jumped two feet off the bed. It felt like an atomic bomb had been set off inside my body! But Tim wouldn't stop there. He kept on fist fucking both of my intimate openings until I lost count of how many times I came. This kept up until he was too exhausted to lift his arms and I was too sore to prod him on.
Fuck! Here I am thinking about last night and the sheets on my bed are dripping wet. Now I'm horny again. I guess it's like when you have a hangover. They say the best thing for it is the "hair of the dog that bit you."
I guess the best thing for a sore cunt and asshole is the "hand of the stud that fucked you." What did I do with that damn phone? Oh, here it is. "Hello, Tim, my love, why don't you come over? I'll make lunch, then you can fist me tonight!"